


Make Me Come...

by alex_fix



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Travel, mystery writer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_fix/pseuds/alex_fix
Summary: Waverly's life is going nowhere until she stumbles across a mysterious postcard left by a stranger in a book. Will she be brave enough to follow its instructions?
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp
Kudos: 26





	Make Me Come...

Waverly was restless. Her research job at the university was dull, less exciting than what she envisaged her life would be like. She had settled too quickly into a routine and it was killing any joy she had.

“Do you want my advice?” Wynonna asked, over beers one evening.

“Not particularly, but you’re going to give it, I can tell.”

“That’s right. So, here’s my advice. You need to fuck off.”

Waverly raised her eyebrows. “I thought you were going to say get a haircut.”

“I’m being serious. You need go do things. Explore new places, explore new people.”

“With, or without a haircut?”

Wynonna thumped her sister hard on the shoulder. “Look around you. This is what your life will be like five, ten, twenty years from now. This. Only this. Is that what you want as a memory?”

“No. But, I’m not like you. You go where you want. I stay here living life in my mind.”

“Precisely. Now’s the time to get out of that brain and into a bikini. You won’t have that body forever. Trust me. Go do things with it. Fun things.”

“I don’t know. I could. I’ll pick up a couple of holiday brochures, see if there’s anything of interest.”

Wynonna rolled her eyes. “Waverly, Waverly, Waverly. You’ll end up creating a spreadsheet of the pros and cons, deciding the cons outweigh the pros and not go.”

“I won’t,” Waverly replied, quickly deleting that idea from her head. “Where do I go?”

“Seriously. The whole world, and you’re asking me where to go. Everywhere. Ask the university for an extended period of leave. Pack your bags, buy a ticket, keep moving.”

Waverly nodded, her hands on her beer bottle for reassurance, the prospect of simply taking off too terrifying to contemplate. Maybe a small spreadsheet, weighing up the theoretical probability of dying while travelling solo would be a useful exercise.

It had been weeks since Wynonna’s pep talk about jetting off. Neither had mentioned the idea, Waverly hoping it was forgotten. The university library was quiet that evening, Waverly sitting at her favourite study pod, working through a research paper due for submission. Her neck ached, her mind no longer able to concentrate on the black type on the page. She needed a distraction, heading to the Social Science section, for no other reason than it was the closest to travel she would ever come.

Her eyes perused the books on the shelves. Asia. Too far. Europe. Too wet. India. Too not wet. Australia. Too many dancing kangaroos. South America. Her right hand running along the spines, seeking inspiration. It came to rest on one. The Spirit of a Journey – Social Symbolism in Brazil. It grabbed her attention, extracting it from the shelf, returning to her seat. As she flicked through the pages, a postcard fell out from a section on the Amazon rainforest.

The photo on the front showed a place she had never heard of. Santarem. The back of the postcard described the city as famous for its location at the junction of the Tapajos and Amazon rivers. This ‘meeting of the waters’ being a popular tourist attraction due to the differing mineral compositions of the rivers, the blue-green water of the Tapajos and the brown currents of the Amazon flowing side-by-side without mixing.

In the space where someone would write a message, there was but one simple instruction:

If you find this card, I dare you come visit…

In the space where someone would write an address, there was but one phone number:

An American number.

Waverly held the postcard in her hand, flipping it to look at the photo on the front, then the handwritten words on the back. It was calling to her. She couldn’t explain why, but whoever left this message wanted someone to go see what was so special about Santarem. One extensive Google search later, Waverly was equipped with enough information about the city to know that was where she was headed. She checked out the travel arrangements, deciding she would wait to tell Wynonna once all her travel plans were in place.

Suddenly, her life felt like an adventure once more. The idea of turning up at some obscure place simply because she found a postcard lodged in an academic book capturing her heart more than anything in her life had done so to date. And, there was still the matter of that phone number, left to tantalise anyone stupid enough to call it. She called the number.

“Hi, you’ve reached my voicemail. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

The mystery of whoever left the postcard suddenly felt hollow. Disappointing. Perhaps this was a stupid prank a student decided to pull. In two minds whether to make any plans her phone rang a few days later. A man’s voice. “Hi. Are you looking for Nicole?”

“Sorry, who’s this?” Waverly asked.

“Her brother. She’s in Brazil right now. Santarem.”

“Oh, right. Do you have a number for her?”

“She works at a bar called Boteco do Pereco. You can reach her there.”

Waverly looked at the number she had scribbled down, her heart racing, wondering whether she should call it. She checked the time difference. It would be early afternoon in Santarem. She entered the number into her phone, her fingers hesitating over the dial button, no longer sure what she was doing, Wynonna’s voice in her head telling her to go do something with her life. What was the worst that could happen, she thought, as she made the call.

“Hi. Who’s this?” A woman’s voice answered. Young, about her own age Waverly guessed.

“Hi. Sorry, I found a postcard in a book.”

Waverly could hear laughter. “Oh no, I’ve been found. So, I’m guessing if you’ve got this far you’re interested in seeing Santarem.”

“Err, yes, I’d like that. I’ve worked out flights. Where’s the best place to stay?”

“Mine. Unless you want luxury. In which case mine.”

“Right. No hotels.”

Waverly could hear laughter again. “Have you checked out Santarem on Google?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Then you’ll understand. Text me your travel details if you decide to come. Sorry, who are you?”

“Waverly. Waverly Earp. I work at the university.”

“Ah, that explains it. Great talking with you Waverly. Bye, va com Deus.”

Her plane touched down one month later. One over-stuffed, large backpack and a smaller bag, as Nicole suggested following a few more phone calls. She was excited to meet her new friend, find out why she had left a card in a book in a library several years previously. As she stood on the runway, watching fellow passengers making their way to the terminal building, she spotted a tall red head looking at her. Nicole had mentioned her hair. To look out for her. Tanned, athletic, smiling, she immediately felt safe with this new person about to enter her life. “Hi, you must be Waverly,” Nicole said, holding out her hand. “Welcome to the real version of a postcard.”

Waverly suddenly felt self-conscious. Such a bizarre set of circumstances had led her to getting on a plane, heading off to somewhere unknown, to meet a complete stranger. Nicole was smiling at her. “We could stay here on the tarmac, or you could come with me in my jeep to the waterfront.”

“Hi, sorry. I’m just getting my bearings. This is so weird.”

“I know right. I never expected anyone to take me up on my dare. Still, glad you came. I promise I’ll make you remember Santarem.”

Nicole took Waverly’s bag from her, leading the way through the airport, guiding them to her car. The journey to the bar where Nicole worked was short, Waverly looking out across the city, accepting she had ventured further in a few days than she had ever done so in her entire life. The jeep pulled up outside a picturesque location on the bank of the river, Nicole jumping out, grabbing the bags from the back. Waverly sat looking at what would be her new home for a week. It was perfect. Rustic, romantic, remote. Definitely somewhere entirely different to her usual existence.

“I’ll let you settle in,” Nicole said, opening the door to a bedroom above the bar. “It’s not luxury, but the views at night are magical.”

“Thanks. It’s great.”

Nicole smiled. “I’ll be downstairs. Come and find me when you’re ready.”

The bar was quiet when she entered, sitting on a stool, Nicole busy preparing a jug of Sex on the Beach cocktails. She attempted to read the menu that lay on the counter, the words unfamiliar. Nicole approached, placing a paper coaster in front of her, followed by a beer to get her started. “On the house. So Waverly, what brings you to Santarem?”

“Well, your card obviously. Am I the first?”

“You are. But, that’s not what I asked. A postcard doesn’t bring you to a place as remote as this.”

Waverly understood what Nicole was asking. “Boredom. I needed a change in my life. I’ve been stuck on a treadmill, going nowhere. I needed somewhere that wasn’t picture postcard.”

“That’s more like it. So, you thought you’d see what this place might be like.”

“Your message intrigued me. Why would someone leave a card in a book, where it might never be found?”

“Want to know why I’m here?”

Waverly took a sip of her beer. “Naturally. That’s the most interesting part.”

Nicole opened another beer, taking a swig, resting it on the counter close to Waverly’s. “I had it all figured out. Well, my family did. Law degree, top law firm, making partner by the age of thirty. My entire life mapped out for me.”

“I’m guessing that’s not what you wanted.”

“No. Trust me, I wanted it. All of it. I come from a very wealthy family where success is everything. I bought into it. The whole enchilada.”

“But, you’re here. Unless you practise law from behind the bar, I can’t see how all this fits in.”

“It doesn’t. I saw an ad asking for volunteers to help at an animal sanctuary not far from here. It spoke to me. Came here, fell in love. When I went back to finish my final year I was no longer the same person. I’d seen too much, wanted something different for my life.”

“Is that why you left the card?”

“Partly. I’ve left messages on various chat groups about the work to save the rainforest. A few have been interested.”

“But, that doesn’t explain the card.”

“I know, right. It’s crazy. I sat one day in the library looking at the postcard I used as a bookmark and suddenly had the urge to write something, hide it, let the Universe bring to me whoever found it.”

Waverly stared at Nicole. “That’s it? That was your grand plan?”

“Yep. Pretty stupid now you think of it.”

“No, it’s perfect. I would never have got on a plane, or gone anywhere like this until I found your card. Perhaps I was meant to find it. Who knows.”

“I’ve got the evening off. No point coming all this way and not seeing everything Santarem has to offer.”

“Thanks. What does it have to offer?”

“Not much. But, that’s the whole charm of this place. We’re so caught up with a world that has to dance and sing to our expectations. Here, life is easy. It’s slow, and I mean real slow. But, once you get the rhythm you’ll never want to be anywhere else.”

Waverly was beginning to feel the peace that came with a place that didn’t run at a faster pace. Her host was charming, intelligent, passionate, adventurous, qualities she hoped to take back with her.

The first few days were enlightening, Nicole introducing her to the life she had adopted in a sleepy city she now called home. Her mind unwinding, Waverly felt the pressures she had placed on herself to be someone falling away. Here she was simply Waverly, Nicole’s friend, someone who helped out wherever needed.

The end of her stay was approaching, a sadness growing at having to leave such a beautiful place. She sat on the last evening with her new friend enjoying the tranquility of their holiday heaven. “Do you think you’ll come back?” Nicole asked, selecting a black olive from the small bowl in the centre of the table.

“I’d like to. This place is…”

“I know. It changes you.”

“Will you stay?”

“Of course. Can’t see me living anywhere else.”

Waverly was silent. She knew what had been on her mind for a few days. Her old life, her life before arriving no longer held the same satisfaction as Santarem. She could feel Nicole’s eyes on her. “You’re always welcome to stay here.”

“I know. You’ve been more than generous.”

“But…”

“But, how would I make this work?”

“Simple. Go with it. If it feels right.”

“So not me. This is not me. All of this. Sitting here. This. I’m amazed I got on the plane.”

“You did though. And, this is what was waiting.”

Waverly could feel a tide of emotion rising. “I’ve lived a life others expected me to live. No, that’s wrong. I’ve been afraid to live. I’ve stuffed so many parts of me down, I no longer know who I am.”

Nicole was nodding. “You want to know why I’m really here?”

“The animals,” Waverly replied, trying to keep her eyes from watering.

“Who I am. My family found out, threatened to disown me unless I stopped being me. So, I cut them off first. The only person I keep in contact with is my brother. That’s it.”

“Oh, Nicole. I’m so sorry. I’ll never understand how families can be so cruel.”

“They’re not cruel. Misguided. I made a choice. Better to be me here, doing what I love, being around those who accept me as I am, than living a life that’s a lie.”

Waverly’s heart broke, tears streaming down her face. Nicole moved to sit beside her, her arm round her shoulder, letting her new friend release her emotions. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m this emotional.”

“I’m guessing you do. But, now perhaps is not the time to speak of it.”

“No. It is. Nicole, it’s been there for a while. I’ve pushed it away, but I know in my heart what I feel.”

“So, Santarem has helped.”

“Santarem has helped. But, you have helped me more.”

“How so?”

“I think I was meant to find your card. I think I was meant to come here. I think I was meant to meet you.”

Nicole chose another black olive from the dish, holding it before her eyes. “Fear stops us from doing a lot of things. Once you go past fear it’s pretty much an amazing ride. The bar could do with more staff.”

“I’d be hopeless behind the bar. My sister, on the other hand, would be great.”

“Waverly, I would like you stay. I think it would be good for both of us.”

Waverly lifted her eyes to Nicole's. "I think so too."


End file.
